The 300 Mile Man

Dean Karnazes wants to run farther than any ultrarunner ever has But can his body (to say nothing of his mind) get him there

Dean is ready to make a major career breakthrough...except that some runner he barely knows, and, worse, can't see, is screwing things up.

It's just after 9 a.m. on this July day, and Karnazes has 15 miles to go in the 2004 Badwater Ultramarathon, regarded as the United States' toughest organized footrace. It's 135 miles of climbing and clawing from Death Valley, California, to the flanks of Mount Whitney. It forces runners to go from below sea level to 8,360 feet above it. It's run in temperatures that spike near 130 degrees.

And Dean Karnazes has never won it. He's 0 for 6 at Badwater. He came close in 2003, when he finished second to defending champ Pam Reed, but he was still nearly 30 minutes behind her. In fact, he's yet to win a major title in the 11 years he's been competing on the ultra circuit. On this morning, though, he's on the cusp of victory-that is, if he can somehow catch an unknown runner by the name of Ferg Hawke.

All night Karnazes has been after Hawke, a Canadian making his Badwater debut. It's a situation complicated by the staggered start that saw Hawke begin the race two hours before Karnazes, making it difficult to get regular time checks. At midnight, the gap was an estimated 47 minutes. At dawn, it was down to around 12. Now, at mile 120, the difference is just three minutes.

It's a trajectory that bodes well for Karnazes, but for one simple fact: He's cracking. He's been running for 23 hours and 120 miles. His pace has slowed to 15 minutes per mile. Hours earlier he was going at an eight-minute-per-mile clip. And after a predawn low of 97 degrees, the temperature is again above 100; the relentless sun pounds the pavement as well as Karnazes's body. He steps slowly, then stops. He leans over, resting his hands on his quads, which twitch involuntarily like mice in a trap. "I'm having a dark moment," Karnazes says quietly. It's not the first one. Earlier, not long after Monday had become Tuesday, not long after Karnazes had been running for 14 hours, he looked to his crew team driving alongside and said, "There are highs and there are lows, and this is definitely not a high." Then he laughed.

But this time, Karnazes isn't laughing. And there's the simple fact of all those miles, stacked up against each other like so much cordwood. The question is, when does a dark moment become something even darker, and not just the precursor to a lighter moment? Only Karnazes can decide, but the fact is he looks in no shape to decide much of anything right now.

Then, wordlessly, he does. Slowly, he stands. He turns his body toward the finish, a finish that's nearly four hours away, a finish that can provide him with perhaps the greatest glory of his running career...if only he can make up those three minutes. Knowing all these things, Dean Karnazes lifts a swollen foot off the pavement. And starts to run.